The Hill Born

The Hill Born

You who are born of the hills,

Hill-bred, lover of hills,

Though the world may not treat you aright,

Though your soul be aweary with ills.

This you will know above other men

In the hills you will find your peace again.

You who ere nursed on the heights,

Hill-bred, lover of skies,

Though your love and your hope and your heart,

Though your trust be hurt till it dies,

This you will know above other men

In the hills you will find your faith again.

You who are brave from the winds,

Hill-bred, lover of winds.

Though the God whom you knew seems dim

Seems lost in the mist that blinds,

This you will know above other men

In the hills you will find your God again.

-Maxwell Struthers Burt

          You who are born of the hills. As I read this poem, I can't help but hear it in the sound of my dear camp director,  Mrs. Anne's voice. It was Mrs. Anne who introduced me to this poem 13 summers ago, and if you are one of the many people who have had the pleasure to attended Kahdalea and hear this read every summer at campfire, you, like me, probably have it engraved in the back of your mind. I am a hill-bred, a lover of hills. It could not be said anymore perfectly. 

           I grew up in the mountains. It is my home. It is where I belong. I long more than anything to be surrounded by the rolling hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, to have the mountain air blow through my hair, to get lost in the beauty of the changing colors of the trees that blanket the mountains. When some people think of beautiful mountains they think of the Rockies and their grandeur. But for me when I think of beautiful mountains the Blue Ridge and their simplicity is all that comes to my mind. No matter how many times I drive through the mountains back home, I never get bored or lose wonder and awe in my surrounding. In the mountains my heart is overtaken by peace and serenity. I can never find the words to explain why it is that I love the mountains and feel so at home there. I've tried for many years to give an explanation, but my answers never seem to make sense. 

          In the mountains, my fears and worries seem to be non-existent, everywhere I look I can't help but see beauty,  and I appreciate the simple things. I know that in the hills I will find my God, my faith and my peace. I think that Maxwell Burt explains my feelings for the mountains perfectly. When I lose myself, I know that in the hills I will be able to find myself again. This is why more than ever I need to go back to the mountains, and I am so thankful that in less than a week I will be back home, in my mountains. I won't deny that these first few months at school I feel like I began to lose myself. I wish this weren't the case. I wish I could say that I was strong enough not to lose myself, but I'm not. As much as I hate saying that I have begun to lose myself, I think that sometimes it is necessary to lose yourself in order to remember who you truly are. So maybe temporarily losing myself was a good thing because now I can get back to the basics. This hill-bred will soon be home again, where the mountains never fail me. "This you will know above other men, in the hills you will find your peace again."